


we’re sadly sighing

by murderstag



Category: Lost
Genre: Angst, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bad Sex, Banter, Crying, Guilt, Hate Sex, Hotel Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Rough Sex, Short, just two sad old men getting their rocks off at a hotel homie, not as bad as it sounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 11:38:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18777523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murderstag/pseuds/murderstag
Summary: Two sad, drunk men alone in a hotel room, in the middle of the night. You can probably figure what happens from here.





	we’re sadly sighing

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't great but idea just would not leave my head until I wrote it down.
> 
> Also I hc ben as trans but I made it ambiguous in this so you can imagine what you want.
> 
> The title is from a song dedicated to the memory of stormy the rabbit from ajj.

It was boring and quiet at the hotel. It’s not like Jack even wanted to talk to the fucker, but it was just awkward and depressing; them laying on separate beds, doing absolutely nothing.

“Can I turn the tv on?” Jack asked. 

“No.”

Jack scoffed. “Why not?”

“Im trying to fall asleep. You should too, we have a big day ahead of us.”

Jack rolled his eyes and turned the tv on, anyways. He flicked through all the boring channels, until some interesting looking action movie came on. He made sure to turn it all the way up, just to piss Ben off even more. 

Ben grunted and stood up, snatching the remote out of Jack’s hands and shutting the tv off, before laying back down.

Jack’s still not really sure why he did it (he likes to blame it on the booze), when he made his way over to Ben’s shitty hotel bed and climbed on top of him.  

And instead of snapping at him like Jack expected, Ben got _that fucking look on his face_ , grabbed Jack’s hips and said: “Why, Dr. Shephard, If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were coming on to me.” 

“Fuckin smartass...” Jack leaned in to kiss Ben, but Ben pulled away.

“With all due respect, Jack... Your breath smells terrible and your beard looks awfully scratchy, so I’d like to just get this over with.” 

Jack’s face twitched. “Turn around.”

Ben complied and turned around, and Jack could’ve sworn he saw him wink before he did it.

Jack pulled Bens underwear off, and attempted some foreplay; a few licks here and there, and added some fingers, which made Ben’s breath hitch.

Jack’s surgeon hands were usually pretty skilled during sex, but he was drunk, and his movements were sloppy and almost unenjoyable.

Ben winced, “Jack, can we please stop drawing this out?”

Jack let out a huff and pulled his fingers out. He then pulled out his cock and gave it a few pumps before slowly entering Ben.

His instincts were telling him to go hard and fast; he wanted to hurt the little fucker, but with whatever curtesy he had left, he managed to take it slow and easy.

But then, Ben turned his head to look at Jack and said “Is that what you call thrusting?” And something inside Jack snapped.

He pushed Ben’s face into the pillow and thrusted as hard and deep as he could, causing Ben to moan loudly. 

“Is that good enough for ya?” Jack grunted. Ben gave a single head nod and whimpered.

Jack knows that Ben wouldn't give him the satisfaction of admitting it, but Ben likes to be hurt, to be humiliated. He doesn't even have to say it, really... The gasps and the little smirk on his face he gets when he’s getting his ass kicked, says it all.

So, Jack gave the man what he wants. He kept one hand on Ben’s head, pining him down, and the other hand on his ass, for support while he continued thrusting balls deep.

Jack tends to say a lot stupid shit during sex, especially when he’s drunk, A lot of his partners have confronted him about it, he just starts babbling on in the heat of the moment.

Things like, “You’re so fuckin tight.” Or “You pathetic little slut.” And that’s usually fine, for the most part. But he doesn't know what the hell he was thinking when he said: “Better than John Locke ever was, huh?” 

Ben froze up and almost immediately said “Stop.” 

Jack stopped thrusting. “Huh?” 

“S-Stop, get off of me.”

_Fuck, he really did hit a nerve. He didn't really think he was actually right about them._

Jack pulled out and Ben rolled onto his back, but he was looking at the floor, avoiding eye contact.  

Ben sniffled. 

Jack frowned, “Ar..Are you crying?”

Another sniffle. “I’m fine... I-It’s been awhile, I got overwhelmed... I feel sick...” He then got up and rushed to the bathroom.

Jack sighed and looked down at his erection. He grabbed a tissue off of the nightstand and started jerking himself off. He had about the most unsatisfying orgasm in his whole life, when he came in his hand, while listening to Ben’s muffled sobs behind the bathroom door.


End file.
